Chapter 25
25
T hings were going well , Simon thought. Maybe too well, in fact.
He and Carlisle had become as much as he could have possibly hoped by this stage. She'd stayed over on three different nights, and he'd stayed over at hers once. They’d gone out on their date, and he'd had another moment where he'd had to confess to her.
Despite everything he poured out, he still hadn't come close to confessing everything. There were some things that, if he never told anyone again, he would live a happy life.
But this thing he couldn't get away from. They'd gone to a movie, one where they served appetizers and drinks and then to a nice dinner afterwards. She had insisted that he drop her at her door and let the date just be a date. Though he'd wanted more, he'd complied. But the next day, he'd asked her out again, and told her, “It’s going to have to be something like mini golf or the food trucks.”
She'd looked at him oddly, as if what he was saying didn't make any sense or was almost so obvious as to be ridiculous.
“I can't afford evenings out like that all the time,” he’d clarified. It was the first time he’d felt bad about his situation. Normally, it didn’t bother him at all. He made enough money to cover their insurance, Darcy’s medical bills, the times his mother couldn’t cover the house payment. The raise when he’d transferred here had been enough to make that even a little easier. He’d never missed having a big screen TV, a huge house, or jewelry for girlfriends or vacations like his coworkers bragged about.
Now, for the first time, there was someone else he wanted to be able to spend his money on. But it wasn’t going to happen. “I wanted to splurge. It was our first date. I just wanted you to know?—”
“I know.” She’d put her hand out, covering his, not making him say it. “I don't mind. I can't afford dates like that right now either. If I'm in charge, we're definitely going to mini golf. And maybe on coupon night.”
The tension in him eased. The confession had been hard to swallow, but she'd made it easy. He'd expected pushback about his sister and his mother and the money he sent. All the magazines and even the online self-proclaimed gurus liked to talk about how all women wanted was a man with money.
Carlisle seemed to be in a position where she didn't have very much of her own. By those metrics, she would only want to date someone who would take care of her. But she didn't seem to have that in mind at all. She was out of work and taking a massive gamble on her business. Still, she never seemed to want him to make up the difference.
He appreciated that he'd seen her eyes light up more times in the past few weeks. Originally, she’d had a distant look. There had been times she glazed over, or reactions that made him think he’d said the wrong thing and she’d slipped away.
Now, that was happening less and less. She didn't look quite so far away and his initial desire to dig in and find out what made her tick was turning into the joy of seeing her grin and listening to her laugh. She was burrowing in deep, and he didn’t know if he’d ever dig her out. Or if he would ever want to .
Simon tried to keep a serious face on the job. He’d needed to go into the offices today. He’d had a win with a client and even headed to the local Y after work. He’d found Jax Mayfair there and had been invited in to shoot hoops. Maybe he even had friends.
A few more people had joined, most at Jax’s insistence. The man knew everyone, it seemed. He was both a former police officer and a Mayfair—Simon didn’t think a person could have a better pedigree than that in Breathless. However, when enough people had gathered and they’d decided to make teams, Simon had frozen.
It was always shirts and skins.
He’d maneuvered to wind up on shirts. It had worked out, in part because another guy didn’t want to do skins either. Maybe because he was a little rounder, but no one flinched. They just said, “okay.” He could remember leaving more than one game because he wasn’t going to do it and the guys were dicks. Here he was simply allowed to play on the shirts team because he requested it. So was the other guy, Raymond. With no other fanfare, they’d played the game.
He’d smiled about that. He’d moved here because of the job and the cheap housing, but he found he liked it here. Now, on the drive home, he was sure the goofy grin all over his face was due to the good day, but mostly to Carlisle. He even looked into the rearview mirror to check if he was acting like a lovesick fool.
It was the only reason he saw it.
Slamming on his brakes, he pulled to the side of the road with a squeal of tires. His heart nearly stopped as the car behind him swerved to miss. Luckily, the driver managed to miss both him and the lump on the side of the road.
Climbing out into the cool air after a brief summer rain, Simon headed back. He was going to feel stupid if this was like that rock turtle. His mother had taught both kids early on to help the animals in the road. She’d heard somewhere that the loss of even just eight turtles in a year in a single neighborhood could alter the ecosystem. So, to this day, his very nice sports car had an old towel, sanitizing hand wipes, and a cardboard box in the trunk in case he found a turtle.
However, the last time he'd stopped for a very tiny turtle, he’d halted traffic, put on his blinkers and discovered it was a rock. At least this time there was no one else around once the other car roared out of site. And this shape was orange, not dark.
It was farther back than he’d thought it would be, and Simon was getting wet. He should have brought an umbrella, but it was too late now. The odd-colored little lump on the side of the road seemed to be moving. Sure enough, it looked up at him as he got close. Big blue eyes clearly unhappy. A kitten.
“Little dude, what are you doing out here?” Even as he asked it, the sky opened up and began to rain in earnest again. The creature already looked skinny and pitiful enough.
Simon had learned from his mother as well not to take baby animals from their own mothers. He looked around for a larger cat, or even siblings. But this little dude's eyes were starting to get crusty. He was thin as if he hadn't had enough to eat for a while. Given the way the other car had swerved around him and he hadn’t run away, there was every possibility that the mother was lying dead somewhere nearby.
Shit.
Unable to stop himself, Simon reached down and scooped up the tiny creature. It huddled against him. Whether it was instantly in love or simply needed to get out of the rain, Simon felt his heart melt. “Let's see if you've got any brothers and sisters around here.”
He searched for a good ten minutes, listening as hard as he could, but unable to hear over the rain and the occasional car going by. Two people stopped and asked if he needed help, but he just showed the kitten. They told him “good job” and drove off.
He found no other cats, so he messaged Carlisle, hoping that she was available. — Meet me at my place? I'll be there in five, bringing a surprise.
Sure enough, when he pulled into the driveway, she was already walking across the lawn. Ducking inside his open garage, she closed her umbrella. “What's this surprise?”
He was glad to see that again her eyes were lit up. She was happy and he could only hope he was a part of it. Climbing carefully out of the car, the kitten having huddled on his lap the whole time, he stood up. She still looked at him oddly, and he realized the creature was small enough to almost disappear in his hands.
He held it up. “I found this little guy on the side of the road about four miles back.”
“A kitten!” She reached out to pet the tiny head but didn't try to take it from him. The kitten was snuggled into his hand. It was cold and wet, and Simon was pretty sure he was already covered with fleas, too.
“Little guy . . .” Carlisle spoke in her soft tones, scratched the tiny head, and looked up at Simon with a grin. “You have a kitten!”
“Oh, no,” he protested. “I'm just going to keep him until we can find a home for him.”
“Uh huh.” She didn’t believe him, and she told him so. “The universal cat distribution system has chosen you.”
“What?”
“The Universe distributes cats to worthy people. You can't turn down a cat given to you by the universe.” She pointed to the tiny creature not at all big enough to be called a cat. “Do you have supplies? ”
He realized he had simply driven home. “No. Do you?”
“I do not.” She stroked the tiny back, the wet fur revealing the bumps of his back and ribs. Simon watched and saw what he suspected was the first time he'd ever actually seen Carlisle Weaver in action.